Esthesia
by Fantastical Queen Ebony Black
Summary: .'Niisan', asked Sasuke, 'What... What is love' [implied uchihacest] .:COMPLETE:. [slight additions made to ch. 5]
1. Chapter 1

_Esthesia_

_x by Ebony x_

_Chapter 1_

I have no rights to Naruto.

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"Nii-san?"

Charcoal eyes peered up at Itachi nervously, hoping the older boy would respond. Much to his excitement, his older brother did, hopping down quickly from the tree he sat in so quietly he might've been thought a ghost. Sasuke startled from the quickness of it and stumbled backwards, passing through his slightly parted lips. A strong hand caught his shoulder, though, keeping him from tumbling onto the ground. He took a second to catch his breath, ashamed at being frightened so easily and what his brother might think of him.

"What is it?" Itachi asked, removing his grip from Sasuke.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

The younger sibling bowed his head, pressing his lips together while he scraped his tongue against his teeth.

"What…. What is love?"

It was Itachi's turn to be caught off-guard, and he stared at his brother for a moment or so. Hints of emotion darted over Itachi's hauntingly beautiful face, one Sasuke almost believed to be a mask his brother wore almost all the time, especially around adults. Especially around their father. Why he hardly ever took it off, Sasuke didn't know.

Finally, Itachi cocked one eyebrow, looking amused. "And why do you ask?"

"Well…" Sasuke began, with slight blush tinging his cheeks, the color rather noticeable against his porcelain skin. "I've heard mother and father say that they love eachother, and that they love me…but I don't really get what it is."

"And why are you asking me?" Itachi inquired, bending down so he was at Sasuke's eye level. The younger looked up, curious and innocent, his eyes alight with his older brother and idol's attention. It made Sasuke feel feather-light inside. It was what kept him continually asking Itachi if he could train with him; it wasn't only that his brother was amazing, Sasuke would ask him even if he wasn't! That feeling was enough.

"I thought you would know," Sasuke began. "I mean, you know about everything. Well, not everything, but almost everything! And I-"

Sasuke's words were halted, as he felt Itachi's fingers graze his forehead, not hard enough to hurt like it usually did. Itachi's mouth was set in a firm line, eyes darkened as he stared past Sasuke, deep inside of himself argueing and struggling. However, Sasuke could only see the god that lived outside, as opposed to the drowning, tangled up boy, that everyone pushed into shadow, only wanting the harsh perfection.

"I-I'm sorry," came Sasuke's susurration. "Did I make you mad, Nii-san?"

"No." Itachi said quietly. He moved his fingers softly up to Sasuke's bangs, dark, inky strands, all too similiar to his own. Sasuke watched him eagerly, and Itachi gave a small sigh.

"Love…" he said, almost bitterly, "Is a feeling you get when you feel very strongly towards someone, in a warm way that comes from inside of you. When people give this to you, it makes you feel wanted, and needed. It's stronger than like. _Much_ stronger than just like. But… I guess there are different kinds. There is the kind of love that families have. This is the way mother and father care about you. Like how mother always takes care of you when you get sick and tucks you in at night.

"The second kind is the type of love you would recieve from a close friend. How you care for the well-being of that person. It can be as strong as family love, or not…. But the strongest kind of love…is a special kind."

"A 'special kind'?" Sasuke questioned, and Itachi cocked his head a little.

"This kind of love…you share with just one person; a person you care about above all other people. You feel so strongly about them…" Itachi raised his head to look Sasuke head-on. The younger watched, entranced, as his sibling's hand swept through his hair like a fine comb, traveling down the side of his face and neck, finally coming to a stop over the left side of Sasuke's chest.

"This person you, would want to spend the rest of your life with, regardless," Itachi continued, "You would do anything for them. Even _kill_ for them. They mean more to you than your own life. And sometimes…it can hurt. Very much."

"But I thought love isn't supposed to hurt!" Sasuke interjected.

Itachi shook his head. "This kind of love comes in all sorts of forms. Yes, some are not painful, but others are. Sometimes, mother and father fight, but they always resolve their differences and still love eachother."

"Just like you and father!" Sasuke said brightly, his young mind filling in holes. "You love father, don't you, Nii-san?"

There was a pause as Itachi stood, and Sasuke felt tiny in compare; insignificant and worthless.

"Have I answered your question, Sasuke?"

"I guess…"

Itachi nodded in approval, and Sasuke grinned a little unsurely.

"So someday, I'll find someone who loves me. My special person?"

"…yes." Itachi answered, not wanting to to the one to shatter his younger brother's untaintedness. "You should be going back home, Sasuke. It's almost lunchtime."

"And Nii-san should come too!" Sasuke said stubbornly, and Itachi gave a bit of a smile.

"I should…" he murmured, and his sibling laughed, beginning to walk alongside him. Quickly, Sasuke reached up and took his older brother's hand. Though he was the same age Itachi had been when he graduated the academy, Sasuke was different, more childish, but Itachi didn't mind. It was tiresome, sometimes, but comforting in a way.

"There is…" he spoke suddenly, "other types of love. Many more."

"What're those?" Sasuke asked curiously, having to take large steps to keep up to his brother, sometimes even having to jump, but never losing his grip on Itachi.

"Unrequitement…" Itachi mumbled, "Is when you love someone… but they don't love you back. That can be tormenting." He looked up, shaking his head so that his hair displaced itself slightly, and his face looked a little broken. "There are others, like I said, but I have not experienced love, only read about it, or seen it occur. I'm not very good at explaining this, am I?"

"Of course you're good!" Sasuke said proudly, "You're good at everything!"

"You think so?" Itachi asked, and Sasuke nodded vigorously.

Back and forth, back and forth swung their hands as they walked through the field, their house in view. Sasuke snuck glances up at his brother, sometimes rewarded with Itachi's rare smile, a prize Sasuke took a mental photograph of and stored deep in his heart, binding it tightly to himself and refusing to let it wash away. And he felt Itachi tighten his fingers around Sasuke's hand, almost so much it was painful, but Sasuke did not want to say anything. Why would Itachi want to hurt him?

That moment was one of many that would stay with them forever, even after both tried to erase it, many, many times.

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	2. Chapter 2

_Esthesia_

_x by Ebony x_

_Chapter 2_

I have no rights to Naruto

love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love

The rooms of the Uchiha household were just like the Uchiha themselves; proper, clean, and high-quality. However, there were things out of place here and there, like a piece of washing that fell from the basket, or something that had been nudged off-kilter as someone went by. A picture frame that was cracked. It was as if they were trying to hide something, or perhaps erase it from being; just a stain against their untainted white.

Nightmares flitted over the brow of the young boy, who rolled over in sleep. The crisp, pale sheet twisted around his body, the entire scene painted over in blue, coming through the paper screens that made the walls. He shivered, bringing his knees up to his chest to retain warmth. Unbeknownst to him, another's body heat leaked in where their thigh touched his back. The expression on his face calmed, and returned to the childish innocence it usually wore.

Elegant fingers wove themselves into the dark mass that was Sasuke's hair, twisting the strands, watching the dim light shine off them. He was so quiet, he almost seemed a ghost or a guardian angel of sorts. His breath leaked out over his lips slowly, eyes half-closed and intently watching his brother's face. He counted the seconds between breaths, pulling back his hand as Sasuke stirred, bringing one hand up to rub against his eyes. He looked blankly around, finally noticing Itachi sitting behind him.

"N-Nii-san?" he murmured, digging his elbow into the futon so he could look at his sibling comfortabley.

"Ssh." Itachi placed a fingertip lightly in the middle of Sasuke's lips, his nail lightly grazing the soft, rosey surface. "Everyone is sleeping."

"W-why are you awake? Were you…having nightmares?" the younger asked, pulling back so he could speak, though in a hushed tone.

"No." Itachi told him, drawing his hand back into his lap. Sasuke grew puzzled at Itachi's expression, as it almost seemed sad, withholding something it wanted to share but didn't know how. Nonetheless, Itachi gave a twitch of smile, leaning down towards the boy.

"Sasuke?"

"Y-yes?"

"You do love me… don't you, little brother?"

"Of course," Sasuke gave a nod, eyes brightening, under the dark, heavy lashes. "And Nii-san… Nii-san loves me, right?"

"That's right," Itachi whispered, his lips like butterfly wings against Sasuke's forehead, leaving as soon as they came.

"Nii-san-"

"Go back to sleep, Sasuke."

Itachi felt his thigh become Sasuke's pillow and he wrapped an arm around his brother, letting his hand settle just under Sasuke's hip where it rubbed softly back and forth. The younger didn't mind, squirming a little so that he was more comfortable.

"Will you love me forever Sasuke?"

"Mm-hm," Sasuke murmured somniferously

"Do you promise?"

"I promise…"

"Even if it hurts?"

"I don't want it to hurt…"

"Promise me, Sasuke." Itachi's voice become forceful, and Sasuke winced, as if he had been attacked. He stayed quiet, feeling Itachi's fingers dig a little harder into his skin through his shirt, pressing against his ribs. Sasuke whimpered a little, caught betwen falling fully alseep or staying awake with his brother. Itachi was actually spending time with him, and he wanted to enjoy it, but something held him back.

"Will you promise me?" came the question again, this time in a louder tone, so that it almost seemed a yell in the silence. Sasuke felt his head tipped up so he faced his older brother's pensive face, that intense blank that was so frightening.

"I promise." Sasuke whispered, hoping his brother would be satisfied. A sigh lilted into the rigid air, and Itachi lay down next to Sasuke, on arm holding his brother to him while the other ran itself through Sasuke's hair over and over and over. Like threads, he curled them around his fingers, tight enough to watch his skin turn creme in some areas, cherry in others. Sasuke lay there a while, eyes wide open, scared. Something was wrong with his older brother, but he couldn't bring up the courage to ask. He wasn't like Itachi, who could conquer anything without losing face, forever a mask of grace and perfection.

His skin prickled with goosebumps and he closed his eyes tight. He could feel sleep/dream/nightmare pulling at him, tugging him down into their world. Farther away, so far away.

And over and over, he could feel Itachi tracing patterns onto his arm with his fingers, just lightly.

Notquite enough to make it hurt.

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	3. Chapter 3

_Esthesia_

_x by Ebony x_

_Chapter 3_

I have no rights to Naruto

Thank you very much to reviewers. You make my day.

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_Nii-san…_

A sleepy pair of eyes opened, then closed again against the sharp morning sunlight that was drifting in through the open window to illuminate the room. It caught the crafted metal frame of one of the pictures sitting on the dresser, glinting brightly on and off. The sun hovered on the far-off horizon like a great neon ball, threatening to roll away and cast the world into a cold blackness. The trees had been turned into spidery silhouettes against the rosy sky, wispy clouds drifting leisurely into day. It was quiet, save the long breaths of the lone figure in the bed and the chattering of the birds outside.

The boy's small hand reached up to rub his eyes, puffy and flushed from sleep, a breathy yawn escaping his lips. After blinking a few times so his eyes could grow accustomed to the sudden and painful vividness of his surroundings, the boy jerked upwards, his hand frantically patting the empty space beside him. There was nothing; just rumpled white sheets and a pillow half falling off the futon. They were lacking warmth, no hints of any body heat at all remaining.

"Nii-san…"

Sasuke's hand retracted to his chest, where it curled into a fist like a cat pulling in its claws, trembling minutely. He drew in his lower lip and bit into it gently with his teeth, not nearly enough to draw blood, just to make a small indentation in the smooth flesh.

_Had it been a dream?_

No, he thought, giving his head a little shake, his brother had been there. He was sure of it. It was too real, the memory far too intricate and breathtaking to have been a dream. It didn't seem like his dreams anyways; they were always odd and vague, or _weird_. He winced as recollection filled his petite head.

Some dreams were just plain stupid, like the one where everyone was a bird including himself, but others… others were graphic and dark, causing him to wake dripping with cold sweat. He would lie still while desperately clutching himself, teary eyes clamped shut so tight it hurt, until morning came to save him. Sometimes he would gather the strength to walk down the hall to Itachi's room, and ask if he could sleep there for the rest of the night. Just something about being near his older brother, made him feel reassured and safe. Besides, he didn't want his father to think he was some scared little kid or anything, so their parents' room was out of the question.

But the things in his dreams… He didn't know where they came from inside his head, but somehow they _did_, and that's what scared him most.

Mentally scrubbing his head clean of such things, Sasuke shed the light-colored sheets that were tangled around his legs and waist and stumbled into standing position. Instantly, the blood rushed from his head, causing vertigo and nausea to sweep over him. His one arm flailed out, palm striking the wall sharply in attempt to keep himself upright. For a while, he stayed like that, trying to keep his breath steady, letting his heavy head hang down, strands of inky black hair cascading down over his visage. Soon enough, the odd colors and patterns faded from sight and he managed to take a few unstable steps, still not in full control of his half-asleep body.

After changing out of his sleeping robe, the boy made his way through the semi-mute hallway. The metallic pitches of dishes clanging against one another were the only sound to be heard, coming from the kitchen. He slowly made his way there, the sound of his bare feet against the tatami mats like a soft drumbeat beneath the light cacophony.

In the doorway to the kitchen, he paused, dark eyes flitting over the scene. At the breakfast table, Itachi sat with impressive posture as he ate his breakfast in small bites and sips. A little bit of worry lifted from Sasuke's mind. Of course, Itachi wasn't going to _wait_ for his little brother to wake up; he had to get ready for training! Satisfied with this explanation, Sasuke forced his legs to take him to the table where a plate and cup sat waiting for him.

Their mother looked up from the sink, wherein she was scrubbing their dishes clean, soapsuds clinging to her lower arms like shackles. Each plate and bowl was perfect and white, with the Uchiha crest hand-painted in the centre of each one.

"Good morning, Sasuke," she said in her comforting, cheerful mother's voice, as she always did. "Did you sleep well?"

"Pretty good," Sasuke answered, sitting down across from his brother.

Itachi's eyes did not come up to meet Sasuke's, nor did the older boy seem to take any notice of his presence at all.

"M-morning, Nii-san," Sasuke tried, slightly confused, leaning forwards a bit as to get his brother's attention.

Itachi's eyes flickered to Sasuke for a second, before traveling upwards, to the figure standing behind and to the left of his clueless younger brother.

"Good morning, Otou-san," Itachi said softly, obsidian eyes unblinking as they stared into and past Fugaku. Sasuke glanced up shyly in time to see his father give a slight nod before continuing through and out of the kitchen.

"Don't take too long," he said to Itachi as he passed, "You're being assigned a mission this morning." He paused again in the doorway, as if waiting for an answer. "Ita-"

"I know," Itachi replied bluntly.

Other than that, the meal was eaten in an impure silence. Mikoto began drying the dishes, humming quietly to herself (so she wouldn't hear it).

Itachi looked back to his breakfast, his expression mostly blank but almost troubled. Sasuke watched him a little longer before digging into his own breakfast, but even then, he couldn't help sneak glances at his older brother. Why was he acting so different than he had the night before?

Oh, right, Sasuke remembered, he has to go get a mission… that must be why. Then again, Itachi always acted oddly around their parents… mostly their Father.

Itachi ate gradually and precisely, the knife sawing the white flesh of his eggs into smaller pieces before he gently speared them with his fork. The metal bit into the swelling yolk and a goopy yellow liquid began to seep out, slowly forming a puddle over the Uchiha fan.

Itachi gazed motionlessly at his meal a while longer before leaning the fork and knife against the slight rise at the edge of the plate and picking up his dishes.

Sasuke dropped his utensils onto his dish as well, quickly scrambling up to follow his brother. He couldn't eat anymore anyways; ever since his father had come in, a welling sickness had been growing in his stomach, enough to make his hand pound and his throat tighten up like it was trying to strangle him from the inside.

"I'm done too," he announced, following his brother to the counter where the dishes were stacked to be washed. He went around the corner too fast, though, and balance was lost to him for a few moments before he lurched forward to regain it, and the plate slipped from his hands. He felt his temple connect with Itachi's boyish chest as he stumbled, followed by a loud crash. His squeezed his eyes shut, the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach only growing.

His mother's humming had ceased. Only the residual ringing of the shatter sounded in undertone.

"Here…"

Sasuke felt the warmth of Itachi's breast removed (and he missed it dearly but said nothing, as the void in his abdomen had swallowed the foolish things he was thinking). After a few moments, he willed himself to open his eyes, finding his mother frozen at the sink, and his big brother crouched down on the ground in front of him, carefully picking up small shards of jagged white china.

"I… I'm sorry," he murmured.

_(what's wrong with me?)_

"It's okay. It's just a plate,"

_(why didn't I catch that?)_

"Better it than you," she said, forcing a smile.

_(idiot)_

"Don't move, Sasuke," murmured Itachi.

His little brother's legs stiffened. He wouldn't dare.

His mother's warm eyes worriedly surveyed the eldest. "Be careful, Itachi," she said, as if she were not talking to a trained killer whose specialty was dealing with sharp objects.

The small pile of broken pieces in Itachi's hands continued to grow. Finally, he had gathered what seemed to be all the fragments and stood, carrying them over to the garbage. Halfway there he stopped, the expression on his face unchanging as he slowly let the breath escape his lungs.

"Nii-san…" Sasuke's eyes began to widen, and he rushed recklessly forward. "Nii-san, you're _bleeding_!"

Itachi looked down at his foot, turning it so he could get a better look at the tender underside, a curved piece of china sticking abstractly out of his foot. Redness blossomed, sharp against the paleness of his skin. It gushed out thinly, spilling onto the tiles of the kitchen floor.

He had gotten all but one piece…

"Nii-san," Sasuke whimpered again, unsure of what to do.

Mikoto moved forwards, clutching a clean dishtowel. "Stay still, Itachi. Sasuke, run and get the bandages. They're in the medicine cabinet."

Sasuke gave a shaky nod before he fled to the hallway, sprinting in the direction of the washroom.

It was… odd… to see his near immortal, perfect older brother's blood. True, Itachi had injured himself before, whether in training or otherwise, but it had not happened for a while… and Sasuke was beginning to doubt his brother _could_ shed blood.

He grabbed the bandages and some disinfectant (just in case), and ran as fast as he could back to the kitchen. The scene had changed slightly since his leave. His father stood by the doorway, critically watching over his family. Itachi sat on the table, his injured foot propped up on his knee so he could access it without much trouble. Mikoto knelt beside him, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"I got it!" said Sasuke, holding up his retrievals to his mother. With another faux smile, she took it, unrolling the bandages until they were at the length needed.

Sasuke turned his eyes away, searching the room for another focal point. The ill feeling pushed up his ribcage, a wave of heat coming down upon his face. He shook his head to try to rid himself of it, catching sight of his father. Coyly, he looked up at the man's solemn face, but was greeted with nothing but a disappointed and almost disgusted frown.

Sasuke quickly swiveled back to Itachi, had drawn the shard from his flesh, causing more blood pulsing out. He ran his fingers over the wound, and using the small bit of healing he knew, he stopped the flow of blood and healed the damaged muscle, though there was still a small cut.

"I'm sorry…," the boy said again, but no one seemed to hear him.

With the wet cloth in her hand, Mikoto began wiping at the miniature red lake forming on her kitchen floor.

Sasuke took a small step closer, eyes glued to his brother. "Does… it hurt?"

"It does. A little," Itachi answered, eyes a little wider than usual as he stared at his blood, somewhat entranced. "I'll be fine."

"Will you be able to train today?" their father said gruffly.

"I think so," Itachi replied coolly, wrapping the long strips of cotton around the wound.

Sasuke's small, clumsy hands reached forwards, as if to take the bandage from his brother and wrap it himself. There was a swaying ache in his head that made the world feel like it was distorting and stretching apart. "Here, I'll help Nii-san…"

"That's okay," Itachi said, tying off the bandage. "It's nothing but a scratch now­­­­."

Sasuke's hands drew back a little. After finishing with the mess on the floor Mikoto stood, her fingers fidgeting nervously with each other. Her ministrations stopped abruptly with a glance from Fugaku.

"… I'm sorry," repeated Sasuke, tears welling up in the edges of his eyes. The world tilted and he went with it, leaning into Itachi. His head nestled into his older brother's lap, arms wrapped around Itachi's slender waist. At first Itachi did not move, but soon Sasuke could feel his brother's hand digging into his hair like a comb, his thumb making concentrated circles on his stiff-muscled neck.

Sasuke held his eyes shut, not wanting to let his foolish tears escape. He mumbled something inaudible into Itachi's lap, causing a sliver of a smile to dance across Itachi's face, so slight one could easily mistake for a twitch of the lips.

_(does… it hurt?)_

"Itachi," came Fugaku's demanding voice, "We have to go. Now."

Itachi gave a curt nod and brought his hands to rest on Sasuke's shoulders, pushing him away with care. The younger compiled, taking a few awkward steps away. Mikoto went back to the dishes she had yet to towel (even though most of them were dry by that time anyways), and her pleasant humming resumed. Itachi and his father left the room like phantoms, and without a single glance backwards at Sasuke. As if he was not even worth the time to acknowledge… Not enough.

Deeply unnerved, Sasuke remained sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the small pile of cracked china he had broken… shattered… destroyed…

He didn't mean to make Itachi hurt.

_(what if he doesn't love me anymore…? What if he _hates _me?)_

It was an accident…

_(I'm never enough)_

The bloodied fragment lay still on the table.

love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love


	4. Chapter 4

_Esthesia_

_x by Ebony x_

_Chapter 4_

I have no rights to Naruto.

Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'd like to know whether my writing is worth a damn.

love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love

Sasuke could hear sounds through the walls at night.

It was almost funny. As time progressed, the atmosphere around their house had begun a _diminuendo_, each day a little quieter than the next. Itachi spoke less and less, and Sasuke could barely remember the last time his brother had smiled. He was out on missions almost all the time, and spent time alone in his room when he came back. It was as if he were slipping away.

_Maybe Nii-san's just stressed out,_ Sasuke's young mind supplied. _ Maybe he's just worried about a mission. Maybe Nii-san's…Nii-san's probably just…_

_Maybe he's…_

_Maybe…_

Sasuke closed his eyes and threw his blanket over his head, but fragments of vehement dialogue still looped inside his mind.

Father was becoming more and more formal, stern. Times he spoke to Sasuke were few and far between, and the boy found himself struggling to be noticed. He could not let up, though, else his head would slip under the water and he would drown, unable to find his way back up to the surface.

Fugaku was growing peculiarly distant to his eldest son as well, his praises often bitter and half-hearted. Conversation was strained, if ever existent. Like ghosts, they were faint and nearly intangible in each other's worlds.

Mikoto had stopped humming while she did her housework, though she smiled just as much. Too much.

Their world was swathed in an unforgiving silence during the day. In front of neighbors and strangers, they put on masks, like the ANBU one Itachi wore and kept hanging from a peg on his wall along with his cloak. It was as if they were acting; putting on a show; pretending they were just another happy, normal family. Fugaku would smile and pat Itachi on the shoulder, and Mikoto would add in bits and pieces here and there, but mind her tongue like a good wife should. Sasuke would pipe in now and then, and they-excluding Itachi, who stayed constantly somber- would laugh kindly.

It was like perfect.

_It was like lying._

Sasuke did not understand why they did it, but he always played along. There was no need to displease Father.

At night, however, the silence seemed to let up and give way. From his parents' room he would hear things…

He would hear hushed dialogue between them, ranging from sorrowful to almost violent. Sometimes his father would shout, things would crash against the wall and Mikoto would scream, tears evident by the wavers and quakes in her voice. Sometimes, Sasuke thought he was just imagining it… that it was just another nightmare.

It was getting harder and harder to define things as real or imaginary lately. Nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut.

And oftentimes, Fugaku would ask (more demanding than asking, really) to speak to Itachi in his room. A few times Mikoto joined them, but each time she ended up leaving the room in shambles, trembling and undone. Sounds slipping under the door, Sasuke would hear his brother's vague murmurs, his father's aggressive defenses; a battle with no winner, and the war was far, far from over, but not as far as they might have thought.

Itachi would leave the room silently, drifting through the hallway like a ghost, going about his daily tasks as if a robot. They never spoke to Sasuke about what they spoke of, and he never dared to ask.

He didn't really want to know.

That night was near the same. Sasuke lay alone in his bed, sheets pulled up and over his head to block out light and any sound that might come from the next room over. He did not mind that darkness at all, not anymore. Itachi had explained to him, the first night Sasuke had run to his big brother after a nightmare, that people were just afraid of the darkness because they feared the unknown. They could not see and could not properly take control of the situation, and that bothered them. There was nothing to be afraid of except your own self. If anything, darkness was something humans could use to better themselves…

He heard a door slide close and light footsteps made their way down the hall, dragging a little, as if tired. They paused in front of the master bedroom, and silence went full blast a few moments before a voice sounded in question, shattering the disturbing stillness.

_Must be Nii-san… getting back from his mission…_ Sasuke's weary mind thought, and he smiled. However, that tiny euphoria turned evanescent as a loud voice sounded in the hall. An ardent tremor started inside of Sasuke's chest, and he buried his head into his fresh-smelling pillow, not wanting to hear anymore.

His parents could not be fighting, because they loved each other very much, even though lately they had not been saying (or acting like it) much. They could not be fighting with Itachi, because they loved him… they did… they had to…

Nothing made any sense. Deeply frustrated, Sasuke began to grind his teeth together, his fingers digging into the pillow so hard his muscles began to ache from the strain. He heard, amidst the muffled accusing words of his father, a mention of 'Shisui', and Sasuke pushed his head deeper into the pillow.

_Maybe it's just another nightmare._

Seconds turned into minutes, and finally, when his arms and hands were sore from squishing the pillow to his ears and his eyes hurt from being clamped shut so tight for so long, Sasuke let himself raise his head.

Quiet.

Relief and worry bubbled up in Sasuke's throat at once. He sat up in his bed, letting the sheets fall away from his body. Part of him wanted nothing but to lie back down and give himself to slumber, but somehow he doubted his mind would let him easily fall back into sleep.

As quietly as he could, Sasuke made his way from his bed to the door, peeking out into the dark, empty hallway. A single candle flickered from the within the washroom, the door left slightly ajar to let a tiny amount of light flicker out and spill into the hallway, casting long, washed-out shadows against the wall. Sasuke held his hands out in front of his face as he made his way through the darkness, as not to bump into anything he could not see. Finally, his groping hands found the door to Itachi's room. Gingerly, he opened it enough for his petit body to fit through and ducked inside, closing it quickly behind him.

The room was unlit, and Sasuke's unadjusted eyes could barely make out the bed and Itachi's still figure sitting thereon. It was a little weird for him to be there; Itachi's room was a place where he was never allowed.

"Nii-san," the child whispered, peering blindly at his brother.

The figure on the bed stirred, lifting his head but a little. His body was slouched against the wall, one knee brought to his chest with his arm resting on it, the other stretched out in front of him. His head had been bowed, his bangs, damp from the quick bath he had just taken, hung over his pale face like curtains, hiding him from the world. He wore only a painfully white robe for sleeping, his ANBU clothing abandoned in a pile in the corner of the room. The air in the room smelled faintly of blood, sour in the back of one's mouth.

"Nii-san?" Sasuke tried again urgently, hands fidgeting in worry.

Itachi let his breath leave his lungs gradually and almost exasperatedly, his head rising just a little bit more.

"You should go back to bed, Sasuke."

"I…was… I couldn't…" Sasuke furrowed his eyebrows, irritated he was unable to find the right thing to say.

"Go back to your room. You need to sleep," Itachi murmured, but this only proved to aggravate Sasuke further.

"But _Nii-san_-"

"Go back to bed, Sasuke," Itachi said with an irked but firm voice, his usually tightly knotted patience fraying and unraveling.

"Nii-san, I can't sleep," said Sasuke defiantly, though this comment was directed at the floor. "I… I heard Tou-san yelling… and… Nii-san…?"

An amused sigh lilted from Itachi's lips.

"You heard that, did you?"

Sasuke gave a coy nod, not yet daring to flicker his eyes upwards.

Itachi shifted minutely, and for what might have been the first time ever, Sasuke thought his brother looked somewhat uncertain.

Still awaiting an explanation, the boy made his way over to the bed.

"Can I sleep here? With you?"

Itachi's dark eyes glided up to meet Sasuke's, peering into them as if searching the young boy for something he desperately wanted to find.

"…fine," he replied eventually, shuffling over a little to make room, "But you have to be quiet, all right?"

With an eager nod, Sasuke climbed onto the bed and sat down beside his brother contently. His eyes focused in on Itachi's, now that they were closer and more adjusted to the screen of sheer umbra, and squinted a little to better see. His brother had never had that sort of expression before; not that his brother usually showed much expression, but still. The elder boy (though for some it was hard to think of him as just a boy) seemed a little tired, his eyelids shut halfway and his lips parted just slightly. His eyes had an odd gleam about them, and it unnerved Sasuke to see his brother as such. His brother was not supposed to be nervous, unsure…

Something was off. Even in his naïveté, Sasuke could tell. He knew better than to say, or ask what was wrong though, and figured it was just the shadows, and his eyes playing tricks on him.

"H-how was the mission?" murmured Sasuke, pulling the crisp white sheet, identical to the one on his bed, over their legs and waists.

"Good…" answered Itachi, though his tone blatantly suggested he did not really want to talk about it.

Fearing Itachi's troubled demeanor and the quiet that lurked, Sasuke leaned forwards to rest his head on Itachi's shoulder blade, drawing his knees up to his chest so he could lean against his brother comfortably, though part of him was pressed against the wall. Itachi relaxed into the touch, though his muscles still felt tense, anxious.

"Nii-san…" Sasuke said, the syllables a little slurred due to his somnolence. "I'm going to go on missions when I'm older too… I want to be just like Nii-san…"

Itachi winced, his body contracting slightly inwards as if he had been punched in the stomach.

"No you don't," came his susurration.

Sasuke lifted his head in childish inquisition. "Why not?"

Itachi shook his head. "Go to sleep, Sasuke."

Tentatively, Itachi pulled away from his little brother, stretching out his legs in front of him then lowering the upper half of his body down onto the mattress. Sasuke quickly settled down next to his brother, not at all hesitant to curl up with his back pressing into Itachi's chest. They lay in a warm silence for a time. Sasuke became vaguely aware of Itachi's fingers playing with his hair again.

"I might be going a way for a while soon," said Itachi.

"On another mission?"

"Sort of…" Itachi's arm draped itself around Sasuke's drawing him closer.

"I miss you when you go."

"I know."

Itachi's hand squeezed Sasuke's shoulder with ostensible affection, eliciting a hushed whimper of pain from Sasuke. Warm breath tickled the feathery hairs at the nape of the young boy's neck, Itachi's lips and body dangerously, dangerously close to his brother. The elder's leg shifted, as if to throw itself around Sasuke, but he drew it back, instead pressing his forehead to Sasuke's neck, squeezing him tightly again. This time, Sasuke bit his lip to hold back his cries. He could not cry; he had to be strong for his Nii-san, even with the uncomfortable and sick feeling tossing in his stomach and the feverishness that swarmed his head, forcing a hazy dizziness on him.

"I love you, Nii-san…" Sasuke whispered in his half-aware dream-like state.

"I know," Itachi repeated, pressing his lips against the back of Sasuke's delicate

_(so easy to snap)_

neck, quickly pulling away.

It was almost funny, Sasuke could hardly help but thinking, how loud the silence was right then… it almost hurt him to listen.

Almost too quiet to sleep…

He felt Itachi place butterfly kisses on his neck, his hand snaking from Sasuke's shoulder down to the hem of Sasuke's sleep shirt. It slipped under the fabric and glided up Sasuke's chest, resting just above his heart. Pounding, pounding. He could feel Itachi's heartbeat just under him, thudding strongly into him, Itachi's hoarse breaths tingling against his ear and neck.

"Nii-san…"

"Sleep, Sasuke."

Sasuke forced his eyes closed, letting his respiration settle into adagio. For a while he lay awake, Itachi's hand still resting lightly against the left side of his chest, fingertips tapping along with his pulse.

Pounding, pounding.

_(I could kill you right now…)_

The scene faded, and dream whisked him away.

_(It was like perfect…)_

And once again, he awoke the next morning in his own bed, alone.

_Nii-san…_

love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love


	5. Chapter 5

_Esthesia_

_x by Ebony x_

_Chapter 5_

I have no rights to Naruto

Sadly, this is the last chapter (and the hardest to write by far). This may seem inconclusive, but I'm positive all the clues have been presented. Think on it. See my bio for more. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. For more Itachi and Sasuke fics, check out my C2 list '_Till Death Do Us Part'_.

love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love

The wind picked up, whispering and caressing the body of the young boy, no more than eight years of age, who stood before row upon row of curved grey stones, rising from the ground as if they were attempting to escape. Each row was perfectly straight, uniform and clean cut. Even in death, the clan seemed to be firm about their ways. Perhaps too firm…

And beneath each smooth-carved stone, he knew, was a rotting corpse that looked similar to him, worms crawling in and out of their bodies, digesting their clammy flesh and tangling about their hair. Body upon body upon body…

Sasuke had lost track of how long he had been standing there, staring hazily out at the most recent addition to the old graveyard, vacant save for him. It was as if it was not actually real… Every day since _that night_ seemed to pass in a light fog; he felt as if he were somewhere else, looking in on himself. His thoughts seemed to have stopped flowing through his head, but when they did come they hurt like Hell. His stomach was constantly upset too, and he had to be coaxed into eating anything, only to throw it right back up again in most cases. It just did not seem like reality at all. _Maybe…_ he kept thinking, _maybe it was just a nightmare._

_Oh, shut up,_ something inside his head said. _Stop blaming it on nightmares, missions, and whatnot, because that's not it. It's real, and it's not going away!_

His front teeth bit into his pouting bottom lip, which was chapped and bleeding (not that he noticed, of course). He could not even begin to count the tombstones. There were plenty more than he had guessed there would be. Seeing them was almost overwhelming… All of them, gone.

And all by the hand of…

_(Nii-san…)_

His grip on his arms tightened, fingers digging painfully into the fabric of his white shirt. The beautiful, pure_perfect_untainted white that was the color of death, showing just how pale his own skin was, not dissimilar to that of a corpse.

He had heard people refer to him as the only Uchiha left alive… That was a laugh.

Inside of him was only an aching emptiness that begged to be filled. It felt like he was full of nothing, or perhaps broken. Despite the fair summer weather, he was cold constantly, frozen, and unable to warm himself up. Maybe Itachi had killed him, and he was just a ghost left lingering, unable to move on. He felt dead, anyways. The children in the park near the hospital were alive. They laughed, smiled and were full of brightness and warmth, while he could barely bring himself to speak, feeling constantly sick and out of his head. The little eight-year old boy within him had been murdered so violently that night, and all that was left was his shell. He was vacant, just barely clinging to the thin scraps of himself he was able to salvage from his tattered and shredded soul.

A choked sob escaped his throat, tears one again welling up at the corners of his coal black eyes. The childish spark once alight within them was dead and their surface glazed and glassy, dark bags hanging heavy under his eyes from his lack of sleep. Every night his graphic and surreal dreams came back full force, doing him a fate worse than death, and when he woke up alone in the hospital bed, shivering and afraid, there was no one to make it go away. No one to let him crawl into their bed and murmur quietly into his ear until he felt safe and warm, no one to hold him close and place their lips against his forehead, and…

_("You do love me… don't you, little brother?")_

Wasn't it ironic that the one who used to protect him from such things was now the one who haunted him at all times? Flitting at the edge of his vision; staring back at him in the mirror; hidden inside his very soul.

_("Of course. And Nii-san… Nii-san loves me, right?")_

Itachi.

_("That's right.")_

The wetness swelling in his eyes began to tumble, leaving cold, salty trails down his thing cheeks.

_("Will you love me forever Sasuke?"_

"_Mm-hm.")_

Itachi did it.

_("Do you promise?")_

Itachi, who was deprived of a childhood and pushed into the unforgiving body of a perfect killer. Were they even surprised he did it? It was what they trained him to do his entire life… what they praised him for…

_("I promise…")_

To 'measure his capacity', Itachi murdered them…

_("Even if it hurts?"_

Every single one… even their parents…

_("I don't want it to hurt…")_

Except for Sasuke.

_("Promise me, Sasuke. Will you promise me?") _

He could barely breathe it hurt so goddamn much! More than he ever imagined it could.

_("I promise…)_

He sucked in hoarse breath and let himself scream, nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. The sound reverberated through the empty cemetery, as if mocking him.

_Weak._

_Nii-san knows I'm weak… Is that why he left me alive? As a punishment? Why would Nii-san… Why did you do it, Nii-san? I loved you so much… I thought you… I don't understand! I don't understand!_

He closed his eyes tight, trying to fill the muteness of the world around him with his panting and whimpered sobs, making as much noise as he wanted.

_Nii-san…!_

He pounded it into his head. His brother… his brother did not love him. His brother knew that he was not strong, not good enough, so unbearably _weak_, and his brother was…

Sasuke's body lurched as if he were about to vomit.

_I'm weak… stupid… he could never love me…_

He had been trying and trying to hate Itachi, but it was hard. As much as he despised himself for it, he still admired and loved his older brother. Sometimes when he was woken up by yet another nightmare raking its claws down his back, he could almost see Itachi sitting there with him, face hidden in by shadow. His bloodstained fingers gently played with and embedded themselves in Sasuke's hair, his skin warm where it touched his brother's, and his kisses sweet and light as they worked their way from Sasuke's forehead, descending over his cheek and jawbone slowly, down to the point where his collarbones came together and further…

_("You do love me… don't you, little brother?")_

Sinking down onto his knees, Sasuke tried to calm his breathing. A sick rage boiled up inside of him, begging to be let out, surging and thriving on the tormenting emptiness that was slowly suffocating him.

_("It would be worthless to kill someone like you…")_

_Worthless…_

Some days, he hurt so much all he wanted to do was end it. Many times, he had considered taking a knife and plunging it deep within himself, tearing away his horribly alive flesh and numbing himself completely with the explicit pain it would bring. Pierce his weak and helpless heart and listen to its once steady began begin _ritardando_, pounding, pounding, solitary into dead silence. Letting all that horrible blood (the _exact same_ as Itachi's) out to stain the clean white clothing, letting himself slip fully away to join the rest of his clan. But suicide wasn't an option, as much as it tempted and taunted him. Suicide would be _weak;_ it would be _running away_.

_("My foolish little brother…")_

The words Itachi had spoken had been burned into his mind, repeating and repeating without intent to stop. His brother had been… so unlike himself during their confrontation.

Their beautiful world had fallen apart before him, and Sasuke had just watched like everyone else, pretending it was okay. Pretending Itachi loved him. Pretending he was enough.

_Pretending like it was perfect._

But it wasn't.

He was never enough…

_("I hate you, Nii-san…")_

_Look what you've done._

_("I _hate_ you…")_

The life that used to be lay in shambles on the ground, broken to the point of being unfixable, smoldering ash and soiled remnants. Itachi had defined a path through it for him, whispering, taunting, urging him forwards. He stepped willingly onto it despite the consequence, refusing to let his clan's massacre go unavenged… refusing to let the one person he had left slip away… even though, he knew he had to…

A shudder ran through him, as he still wasn't quite accustomed to the thought.

Nonetheless, he would do it. He would train hard every day until he was strong enough, smart enough; he would obtain the Mangekyou Sharingan; he would kill his brother and avenge the clan. His brother told him he could. He had the _potential_.

_(In that case… hehe. There would be a reason to let you live. )_

Sasuke removed his hands from where they clutched his upper arms and planting them on the ground. Desperately, he tried to slow his breathing and quiet his sobs, but the tears still came, as if to spite him.

_Stop crying… stop crying, damnit!_

Biting down hard on his lip, the boy raised his hands to his face, desperately wiping away the brackish wetness running down his face, which was oh-so-similar to Itachi's and it was beginning to make him _sick_, so filthy sick of himself. He muttered bitter curses under his breath, rubbing at his skin until it turned a raw pink and the tears stopped coming.

_("If you want to kill me…")_

Forcing his respiration to even and his body to cease its trembling, Sasuke brought himself to stand. It still hurt, but he was learning to ignore it. He still yearned for his brother, but he was getting better at pretending. He was getting better at a lot of things.

_("Curse me!")_

And in essence, the chase hadn't changed. He continued to strive for a level of perfection equal to Itachi's trying and trying and trying to be good enough. Where before he had wanted to please, and have himself noticed by his Father and the rest of the clan, he was struggling to avenge them.

_("Hate me! And lead an unsightly life.")_

He was heading straight down a path that lead to him becoming dangerously like his big brother.

_("Run away…")_

Half-blind and reckless, he rushed forwards, pushing and pushing and pushing himself until he could barely move.

_("Run away… and cling to your pathetic life.")_

Reaching and reaching… yet never quite taking hold of it.

_("And some day, when you have the same "eyes" as me… Come before me.")_

It still hurt, and it always would, but the hate softened it… the way Itachi wanted it to.

Sorrowfully, Sasuke began to pick up the jagged glass-like pieces of his old self, not caring when some of them cut his fingers, causing dull pain to shoot through his hand, sweet red liquid peeking out. Some of the fragments he shoved aside, deeming it worthless, but other bits he wrapped tight around himself and double knotted so they would not fly away. Slowly, he began to rebuild himself…

And yet, as he turned quickly and began walking along the stone path that led to exit of the cemetery, he couldn't help but pick up some discarded shards and bury them inside his heart where no one could see. He held their evanescent warmth close to him, begging and pleading silently that they would never leave.

_("Nii-san?")_

Some nights, after even the nightmares had abandoned him he would pry them from their hiding place and sort through them, looking at each one fondly. Even if he tried to throw them away, they always reappeared the next morning, glinting amber on his windowsill.

_(What is it?"_

"_Can I ask you a question?")_

And no matter how hard Sasuke tried to hate Itachi (his bigger-stronger-better oh-so-(close to)-(not quite)-perfect older brother) for abandoning him, for killing everyone, for forcing all of this misery on him without warning… he couldn't help but continue to love his brother. More than he, or anyone else, could ever fathom. There was still a broken little boy trapped inside of him, wanting to cling to his older brother when the nightmares came.

_("What… What is love?")_

Just wanting his older brother to love him back… to notice him. Too see what he had become.

Sometimes when he lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling with heavy-lidded eyes and Itachi's visage burned into his mind's eye, he began to wonder if Itachi had kept some of the fragments he had stolen from Sasuke inside his chest, and if it ever hurt…

Because, as both know very well, love does that sometimes.

_("You do love me… don't you, little brother?")_

love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love

_et fin_

**esthesia** (es-thē-zhē, zhē ə, -zē ə), _n._ capacity for sensation or feeling.


End file.
